


Prompts

by restingkovicface



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, nice cool
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 08:46:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4053865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/restingkovicface/pseuds/restingkovicface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompts I received from Tumblr!<br/>(If you don't already follow me you absolutely should -><br/>restingkovicface.tumblr.com )</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Closet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt for Speake:
> 
> "Can I kiss you?"

Sean isn’t exactly sure how they ended up playing a strange mixture of Spin the Bottle and Seven Minutes in Heaven, but here they all are, drunk off of the cheapest liquor James could find and sitting in a circle and waiting for the timer to go off so Joel and Adam can finish up whatever unspeakable things they’re doing in the hall closet.

Adam had just spun. Matt’s sitting in the spot to the right of Adam, so it’ll be Matt’s turn to spin next. Low moans and the occasional  _thump_  on the wall can be heard. Sean wipes his sweaty palms on the front of his jeans.  
  
The timer on Lawrence’s phone goes off. Lawrence calls out to let them know they need to get out now. After a few more seconds, James decides to get them out of there himself. It doesn’t take much work. He opens the door and Adam literally tumbles out, landing on his butt. James helps Adam off the ground, and everyone can plainly see where Joel decided to decorate the entirety of Adam’s throat with fat purple hickies.  
  
“ _Christ_ , Joel. You’re supposed to make out, not suck his blood,” James teases, mussing Joel’s hair as he and Adam sit down in their respective places.  
  
“Adam you look like a cheetah,” Lawrence jokes, wrapping an arm across his neck to pull him down and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Adam’s head.  
  
“C’mon, it’s Peake’s turn,” Joel says as he takes his seat beside Sean. All of the other boys cheer Matt on as he reaches forward to spin the empty beer bottle, except Sean. He’s busy trying his best to keep from breaking out into a sweat.  
  
The time it takes for Matt to pop his neck and reach out to the cool brown glass seems like an eternity to Sean. The way Matt’s fingers stretch and the brilliantly white smile are both almost too much for Sean to handle.  
  
A flick of Matt’s wrist later and everything seems to be in slow motion. Sean is sure he is experiencing palpitations. His heart thumps against his rib cage as the bottle twirls; it passes Lawrence, and Adam, and Bruce; James looks disappointed when it slips by him. The bottle slows as it approaches Joel. Sean is sure it will stop on Joel, but his eyes go wide when the lip of the bottle glides past Joel’s hungry eyes and settles on himself.  
  
Everyone responds differently. Bruce and Lawrence erupt into a chorus of “ _Ohhhhh_ ,” while James stands up, and Adam claps Mat on the back. Joel, on the other hand, looks like he’s been cheated. Sean feels like his heart has stopped.  
  
Matt’s usual deadpan expression looks sheepish as he stands. Sean mirrors his actions, hoping the shaking of his hands wasn’t too visible. Sean trails behind Matt, painfully aware of the five pairs of eyes that are focused on the two of them.  
  
Sean can hear his hear his blood thundering in his ears. Matt’s a gentleman, regardless of the context, and holds the closet door open for Sean. The closet is pitch black when the door closes; the only light to come through are the few slivers that slip in under the crack at the bottom of the door and along the sides.  
  
Sean folds himself into the closest corner that isn’t occupied by old coats or shoes. His senses seem to be in overdrive mode, and he’s almost caught off guard by how  _good_  Matt smells; woodland musk and snow and the familiarity of home all outweigh the strange, overbearing mixture of Fireball Cinnamon Whisky and Vanilla Coke that they both carry. He’s probably imagining the warmth he feels, presumably, from Matt’s skin.  
  
Neither of them say anything. How do you admit to someone that you like them? It seems to be easy for James and Joel, who are suave and congenial around anyone and everyone that they meet. Bruce and Lawrence are two alike in the sense that they are never discomfited, always eager and confident in what they say and do. Adam, although not always brave nor completely sure of himself, has an air of well disposed hospitality that appeals to everyone; those who like Adam always approach him. Sean is positive that he has none of these traits, and everyone else has certain moves or subtle ways to indicate a longing desire. None of them are ever stuck in a closet with someone they’ve had a crush on for longer than they can remember, completely unaware on whether or not that person likes them back, and never being hypervigilant of every small movement that person takes, like the cautious, patting of Matt’s socked feet on the closets hardwood floors, coming directly towards Sean.  
  
“Sean?” Matt mutters in a low voice. “Can I kiss you?”  
  
Or you can be completely frank and upfront, like Matt.  
  
“W-what?” Sean sputters, surprised at his sudden ability to speak, and eternally grateful to the near solid darkness of the closet and how it’s hiding all of the blood that’s rising to his face.  
  
“I want to try something,” Matt says. Sean feels the distance between he and Matt get shorter. “Is that okay?”  
  
Sean’s brain feels like it’s been fried. Numbly, he nods. Matt must have been able to see, because one of his hands are on Sean’s upper arm in the same second, pulling Sean from the corner and within six inches of Matt’s face. Sean’s breathing is shallow, while Matt’s is steady.  
  
Alcohol decorated breath closes in. Haphazard electricity bolts across Sean’s skin, raising goosebumps on his arms and neck and back.  Champagne pink lips brush softly against each other. They’re only millimeters apart. Some spark of courage flashes inside of Sean, and he’s the one to close the gap.  
  
Matt’s lips are softer than Sean’s, but Matt’s kisses are rougher, more demanding. Sean’s dimly notices Matt’s hands trail up his arms and cup his face. Matt’s thumb brushes over Sean’s cheekbone. Sean’s arms lay unused by his sides.  
  
If time were going in slow motion when Matt spun the bottle, then God must be fast forwarding the time in the closet. Maybe Sean was too focused on the overwhelming sensation of Matt’s tongue grazing his teeth and teasing his own tongue, but it does  _not_  feel like seven minutes has passed, and James is banging on the closet door far sooner than he should be.  
  
“Time’s up! Are you banging in here?” James jokes.   
  
Matt pulls away just as James pulls open the door. One look at Sean’s face (which, Sean is positive, is plastered with scarlet) was all it took for James to split into a wicked grin.  
  
“He Peake’d ya!” James announces. Sean blushes furiously deeper than he already had been. James turns to excitedly tell all of the fictitious things that Sean and Matt had done in the closet. Matt lazily smiles and gives Sean’s hand a quick squeeze before moving to join James. Sean follows slowly.


	2. Dog Tags

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt for Killems:
> 
> "You came back."

 “You came back,” James says breathlessly. “I can’t – I thought you were dead.“

Adam rubs his neck. “Afghanistan was hell, but I don’t  _think_ I’m dead.”  
  
“You piece of shit,” James says. He’s crying but Adam can still hear the joking tone in his voice. “I hate you so much.” James pulls him into a hug.  
  
It’s soft and warm, and Adam was sure that he had never felt anything softer than James’ skin. James smells like aftershave and Old Spice deodorant. James’ body jerks with each wave of sobs.  
  
“They said you were MIA,” James says with a guttural tone. His throat is thick.   
  
“What’s for dinner?” Adam jokes. James groans and pushes Adam away from him. Adam laughs and follows James’ closely, holding James’ hip with his hand.  
  
“Baby, no, come on, I was joking,” Adam says, spinning James around to look at him. James’ eyes are bloodshot and puffy, and his lips have melted into a warm reddish pink from where he was biting them. Adam stretches and presses a soft kiss to the tip of James’ nose. “I brought you a present.”  
  
James sniffles. “A present?”  
  
“Mhmm. Close your eyes,” Adam orders. James obeys.  
  
“You’re not going to disappear on me again, are you?” James asks. Adam laughs and assures him that he isn’t going anywhere. He pulls off the cool metal dog tags that were pressed against his chest. He puts the chain around James’ neck, and James’ hand immediately grabs the smooth tags.  
  
His eyes open and he glances down to read them. He snorts.  
  
“Your  _dog tags_?” James asks, bewildered. “You’re shitting me.”  
  
“What’s wrong with them?” Adam asks defensively.  
  
“This is the shittiest gift I’ve ever gotten.”  
  
“You’re  _such_  an asshole,” Adam says.  
  
“I’ve missed you,” James replies, pulling Adam into another long hug.  
  
Adam laughs against James’ chest. “I’ve missed you too. I’m glad I came back.”


	3. Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt for Ruvic:
> 
> "It's okay to cry."

_knockknockknock_  
  
Adam groans as he rolls out of bed to answer the door. He glares accusingly at the neon numbers on his alarm.  
  
“6:30 in the morning? Who the hell –”   
  
 _knockknockknock_  
  
“ _Who is it?”_ Adam calls from the hallway. He flips on the porch light. He has his hand on the doorknob when a familiar voice answers.  
  
“It’s Joel. I’m here for my stuff.”

Adam freezes in place, and he feels his blood run cold. He swallows hard and panics.  
  
“Uhh, no one’s home?” he tries. It was a stupid attempt, and he can hear Joel groan from behind the door.  
  
“Adam, please just open the door. I don’t want to be here as much as you don’t want me here.”  
  
Adam takes a deep breath and weighs the consequences. If he lets Joel in, he’ll have to deal with Joel. If he doesn’t let Joel in, he’ll have to deal with Joel, and he’ll have to deal with him later when he decides to come back. He opens the door.  
  
Joel is standing with his fingers in the pockets of his jeans, hair unfixed and frizzy, plain t-shirt on. Adam can’t help but notice how the light exaggerates the green in his eyes. Neither of them say anything when Joel shoves his way into the house.  
  
“Everything’s still in the closet,” Adam says, trailing behind Joel as the other makes a beeline for the master bedroom.  
  
Joel snorts. “A lot of things here are.” Adam’s temper flares.  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Adam asks through bared teeth. He stands in the hall and watches Joel pull down all of the colourful button down shirts and jeans and lays them in the floor.  
  
“What do you  _think_  it means, Adam?” Joel asks patronizingly. “Why the hell else would I be here packing my things? I’m sick of being a secret.”  
  
Adam clenches his fists. “There’s nothing I can do about it, Joel.”  
  
Joel lets out a short humourless laugh. “Sure thing, bud. I could tell you  _several_  things you could do.”  
  
“Stop, please. Please don’t argue this with me,” Adam asks, anger deflating. “I don’t want to do this.” He rubs the sleep out eyes. Joel scoffs.  
  
“Are you  _crying_?” he asks, throwing down a handful of sweaters.  
  
“ _No_ , I’m not crying,” Adam answers honestly. He sighs internally. How typical of Joel to try and start something. Adam doesn’t know what else he expected.  
  
“It’s okay to cry, Adam,” Joel tells him. Adam can tell he isn’t being sincere. “God only knows how many hours I spent doing the same thing.”  
  
Adam doesn’t provide a reply. He isn’t going to be the fuel that allows Joel to explode. He just wants to get back to sleep and forget this happened. Joel doesn’t push it any further. Adam can tell by the look on Joel’s face that his anger has dissolved as well.  
  
Adam sits on the bed as Joel shoves everything into the large suitcase he kept in the back of the closet. The tension is thick, and Adam can’t bring himself to look at Joel. Joel doesn’t bother to look at him, either, but he pauses in the doorway as he leaves.  
  
Adam braces himself for whatever Joel’s going to say, but it never comes. Joel just lets out a heavy sigh before walking down the hallway. Adam lies on his back. He winces when the front door slams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hA so much angst sta b m e I live for Ruvic


	4. A REAL Date?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt for Grillems:
> 
> "Are you drunk?"

“Are you drunk?”

The question comes out with a laugh. Bruce hears James explode into laughter on the other end of the phone. The laughing fit throws Bruce into hysterics, and he’s wheezing along with James.   
  
“Take that  _outside_ ,” Adam groans, throwing a pillow at Bruce. Bruce catches it and rolls his eyes. Adam’s been too grumpy lately. He walks out onto the balcony regardless.  
  
James has quieted down his laughter on the phone, and he’s now rambling about some video game and how he can’t touch the dirt and he  _wants his money back_.  
  
“James, are you okay?” Bruce asks.  
  
“I’m  _fine_ ,” James slurs. “You’re fine.” Bruce scoffs.  
  
“Not as fine as you.” James gasps as if Bruce has offended him.  
  
“Br _uce Greene_ ,” James says. “Are you hitting on me?”  
  
Bruce bursts into laughter again, throwing his head back and allowing the sharp Denver air to fill his lungs. He and Adam had been at this convention for three days, but it’s been three days too many.  
  
He misses James. The way his hair smells after he showers. The smooth muscles of his back. The over sized arms wrapping around his neck. The little dimples at the small of his back.  
  
“Well, I  _am_  your boyfriend, James,” Bruce tells him. “It’s in the job description.”  
  
James snorts. “Now  _you’re_  the drunk one. You’re not my boyfriend.” Bruce clutches his chest with faux offense.  
  
“I’m not your boyfriend? We were making out on your couch just a week ago,” Bruce reminds him with a grin. James hiccups before answering.  
  
“So? That doesn’t mean you get to be my  _boyfriend_ ,” James garbles. “You haven’t even taken me out yet! I’m a classy lady, Bruce.”  
  
Bruce laughs again. He can’t seem to stop. “Fine, when I get back I’ll take you on a date –”  
  
“A  _real date_?” James interrupts.  
  
“Yeah, a real date,” Bruce confirms. “Will I be able to call you my boyfriend then?” James huffs into the phone.  
  
“That depends. What is this date you have in mind?”  
  
Bruce chew his lip. It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it before – he definitely has – but nothing ever seems good enough. James deserves the world, and all Bruce can give is a corn dog and a walk in the park.  
  
James clears his throat. “I’m waiting, Brucie.”  
  
Bruce grins. “Okay. I’d take you –”  
  
“No!”  
  
“No?”  
  
“No. Start from the moment you begin to get – _hic_  – ready.”  
  
Bruce blinks and settles down in one of the plastic chairs. “Fine. I’d take a shower, and before you interrupt me, I’m  _not_  going into those details. I’d get dressed in my finest pair of plaid shorts –” James barks out a laugh “– and I’d pick you up. We could do something simple, like go to a fair or a movie. I would buy you souvenirs and whatever you wanted to eat. We could go for a walk after.”  
  
James is silent for a few agonizing moments. It’s probably only a few seconds, but to Bruce it feels like an eternity. His heart rate accelerates.  
  
“I mean we don’t have to do that. It’s kind of dumb, I kno–”  
  
“Can we hold hands?”  
  
It’s Bruce’s turn to be silent. His brain takes a while to register James’ words. “What?” he finally manages.  
  
“I _said_ , Can we hold hands?” James scoffed.  
  
Bruce breaks out into a cheesy grin. “You actually want to go on a date with me, don’t you?” he manages.  
  
“ _Yes_ , Bruce.”  
  
“Like a real, consensual, adult date?”  
  
“ _Yes, Bruce_. God, you’re not even listening. Are you drunk?”


	5. Road Trip AU Drabble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this wasnt a prompt and isnt a full-fledged fic?? so I'm just gonna dump it here thanks

okay but can you imagine an AU where adam quits a dead end job to travel across the country and picks up each of the boys as he meets them in various locations?

Like, he left some boring temp job in Delaware and goes south, navigating only through road maps and locals. He ate greasy gas station food and didn’t shave. He only slept in the back of a barely working, beat-up, rusty 70s station wagon, which was a little too roomy for his liking.

He found himself broken down and stranded in rural South Carolina, pushing this piece of shit car to the nearest mechanic. He didn’t make it very far before a tall, dark haired, bespectacled stranger stumbled across him during a walk and asked him where he’s from and whether or not he’s had a real meal in the past 24 hours. The guy introduced himself as Lawrence and didn’t accept the twenty dollars that Adam tried to pay him for helping push the vehicle to the nearest town, but if Adam  _insisted_ on repaying him, he’d really like to tag along on wherever Adam’s heading to next. Adam agrees. Lawrence was nice and funny, and Adam could’ve used the company, he thought. The back of the station wagon easily held two.  
  
Lawrence and he managed to get the car to Chicago before it decided to give out again. This time, luckily, they’re in the heart of a big city and easily find someone to fix the car. Both men were essentially broke at this point, so the shy mechanic with the red hat told both of them that he would cover whatever their charge was. Adam misread the name on the pocket of the mechanics overalls as Spoole instead of  _S. Poole,_ and was thoroughly embarrassed, but they all laughed it off. Lawrence and Adam both agreed that they couldn’t just take advantage of Spoole’s kindness, and left him a few crumbled bills and a note on his desk telling him to meet them at the gas station just outside the city at 10:30 the next morning if he wants to join them. He shows up at 10:15. The back of the station wagon comfortably handles three.  
  
The next trip brings them, surprisingly, to Las Vegas, Nevada. How they managed to get that far without trouble from the car is a miracle to Spoole, but Lawrence and Adam know that it’s thanks to his impressive way with vehicles. They have about 150 dollars between the three of them at this point, and Lawrence is positive that he can triple that in a casino. Adam and Spoole reluctantly give him 25 dollars each. If worse came to worse, Adam thought, they could always sell drugs. But worse didn’t come to worse. Lawrence came back to the car three hours later with 3400 dollars and what looked to be an exotic dancer with inky cherub curls. “This is Joel,” Lawrence told them. And that was that. Spoole told Adam later that he thought four people in the back of the station wagon was nice and snug. Adam agreed.  
  
Two days later they were lost in the backwoods of Oregon, stumbling through the woods and sporting headaches from Joel’s loud complaining. Lawrence was rambling about berries they could find to eat, and Spoole was trying to coerce Adam to stop the car so everyone could get out and stretch their legs, when Adam came to an abrupt stop. All four men scramble out of the car to see what halted their escapade and find a very weary, half-conscious man propped against a tree. Adam rushed to find some water as Lawrence tried to pry information from him the best that the could. What he gathered by the time Adam got back was that the mans name was Matt, and he’d lost track of his campsite. Spoole asked him if he knew how to get out of the woods, and Matt told him yes. Joel offered a ride in exchange for directions, and Matt eagerly agreed. They successfully made it out of the woods, and the water and half-eaten sandwich they’d found in the car helped Matt regain most of his functionality in no time. Soon, he was chatting quietly with the rest of them, laughing at jokes and responding subtly to Joel’s blatant flirting. “The station wagon can hold five, right?” Lawrence whispered to Adam as the latter pulled onto the highway. Adam believed it could.  
  
Even later they found themselves enduring Joel’s whining about the neck cramps he was getting from sleeping in the back of Adam’s car. They all conceded and requested that Adam find a cheap motel so they can sleep in an actual bed for once, and maybe get a proper shower instead of one at a Y. He found the cheapest motel he could that didn’t look like it was run down with _that many_ bedbugs and the boys almost cried in ecstasy at the sight of a  _real_  bed with  _real_  sheets and  _pillows_. On his way to get ice from the machine in the lobby, Adam found himself face-to-face with the brightest pair of blue eyes and widest chest he had ever seen, being offered a deluxe deal of twenty dollars an hour. Adam politely declined, but the look of desperation in those tiny ocean eyes made him  _accidentally_  drop 50 dollars on the ground as he walked away. Ten minutes later there’s a knock on their motel room door, and the same blue eyes are staring back at him, asking to sleep in their room tonight. The rest of the boys shook their heads, but Adam enjoyed being the big spoon while the other four sprawled themselves awkwardly in the second bed. He almost laughed at the thought of the six of them squeezed together in the back of his station wagon.  
  
But they managed. It wasn’t too uncomfortable, and sometimes Matt felt claustrophobic, so he drove while the rest slept. They didn’t mind. That meant Matt got to sleep mostly during the day, and the light snores and mussed hair was worth the price of no cuddles in the back. Besides, if Matt didn’t drive at night, they would have never picked up Bruce, the bearded hitchhiker wearing a sign that said  _NIAGARA OR BUST_ on his back. The stranger was asleep when the rest of the boys woke up, and they were extremely frightened. Matt just shrugged. “He’s funny,” Matt said. And that was that. After a few hours in the car with Bruce, they understood completely why Matt decided to pick him up. Fart jokes aside, Bruce was excellent at keeping conversations from lulling. The back was crowded, but Adam thought it worked.  
  
The falls were nice, Adam thought. Joel thought the colour scheme brought out his eyes. Lawrence was fascinated with the science and hundreds of thousands of gallons of water behind the falls. Matt and Spoole simply enjoyed the view from the boat ride the two of them took. James and Bruce enjoyed each other; they were all smiles and obvious flirting and dick jokes. Adam couldn’t help but think back to when he started the trip, the back seats full of Gatorades and the passenger seat littered with empty cigarette packs and fast food wrappers. He loved every moment of the time between Delaware and South Carolina, but he simple couldn’t imagine that ancient, rusted station wagon carrying just one person. It didn’t seem right, and as he watched the six of his boys argue over where they should eat that day (”I need somewhere with coffee, I think I’m dying.” “Joel you drank six cups since we left this morning.” “You don’t know my life.”), he realized that he didn’t ever want the back of that station wagon to be empty ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> fuck me up i suck at endings im sorry ?


End file.
